Bad Habits
by Acidspades
Summary: One of Dean's one night stands goes very wrong, and the clock is ticking for the eldest Winchester.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So, I got bored, and wrote this, because a girl on said I should write a tortured Dean story. So this is it guys. And she really liked it, so I decided to post it here. Now, I'm not sure if this is a one-shot, or if I'm going to continue it into a nice little story. So, I guess I'll find out. Anyways, here's the story.**

_It wasn't suppose to happen like this._

Scars and deep gashes ran up and down Dean's torso. He bit back another scream as she dug the knife in between his shoulder blades and dragged it down, like she had done so many other times before. Dean could feel the warm blood running down his back. It wasn't _meant_ to go like this. This was suppose to be a one night stand with that pretty girl from the bar, but it had turned into a kidnapping that was 3 or 4 days long with a creepy, but still beautiful hag. Dean seemed to have a bad habit of finding trouble; a very bad habit indeed.

She licked the cut seductively, but it only made Dean tense more. Bruises decorated Dean's skin, and every time she ran her fingers over them, Dean couldn't help but wince.

"And you were so cocky the first few days.. Never thought you'd subside to whimpering. Guess I was wrong." she taunted, as she picked up her favorite torture tool. A hammer. Dean was sure he had multiple broken bones from it, but he wasn't giving up yet. Sam would find him, Cas would find him. Somehow. They had to.

"I'm not whimpering... Bitch." Dean spat, putting on his game face. She swung the hammer, getting him square in the stomach. Dean's legs buckled as the wind was knocked out of him, only being held up by the chains around his wrists. Pain made his eyes water, but he wasn't going to make a sound. Not if he could help it.

"I'm not a bitch Dean." She whispered in his ear, taking the knife and slicing the side of his neck. It stung although it wasn't deep, and Dean tried to make himself remember the creatures he had fought, and how worse they had done to him. But it was nearly impossible, because some humans had sick minds, and were monsters themselves.

"I'd check again." Dean snapped smugly. This only angered his torturer more, and she swung the hammer at his chest. There was another sickening snap and Dean yelled out in pain, trying to steady his breathing. She giggled.

"You act so tough... But you are so weak." She insulted, laying the hammer back down on the table. Dean looked down at his feet, hoping, PRAYING someone would find him. He was standing in a pool of blood. His blood. Dean realized it was a lot and wondered how much more he could take before he'd die.

_"You're not going to die Dean."_ He thought, angry with himself. Sam and Cas would come. They had to, they owed him. But the more Dean thought about it, the more he was convinced they were going to arrive too late.

He listened as the physcotic women's footsteps went fainter and fainter until he couldn't hear them anymore. Dean looked up at the chains, and tried to haul his hands out. The smell of his blood was starting to nauseate him, and he was starting to feel really dizzy. His bones ached, and his stomach growled. His hands protested against the cold metal, and wouldn't slip out. Dean's wrists were raw from trying so hard. His mouth was dry and his tongue felt like sandpaper. Pangs of hunger ran through him. Dammit. Dean knew just how bad it was, and how worse it was going to be if he never got out of here soon. Helplessly, he let the pain take him over, and push him into unconsciousness. He half heartedly hoped he'd never wake up again.

**The End?**

**Tell me if you guys want me to continue this.**

**Reviews still appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Dean awoke to the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs.

_"Oh God. Not again." _He silently pleaded. But his pleading wasn't answered, because her face appeared in the light coming from the window 10 feet above. Besides that, one window, everything was concrete. A perfect torture chamber where no one could hear his screams.

"Awake, are we Dean?"

"Get away from me bitch." Dean hissed.

She just smirked. "I wouldn't talk like that Dean. I'm the one in control. Right?"

"Shut up" Dean tried again.

Her smirk was faded now, and she stood looking annoyed. "Do you want me to kill you Dean?"

"It'd be nice. At least I wouldn't have to see you anymore." Dean said cockily.

She smiled. "What about your brother?"

Dean's expression changed from careless to anger in two seconds flat. "Don't talk about my brother."

"Oh. Did I hit a weak spot Dean? Let me hit it again. You're going to do exactly what I say, or maybe I'll get your brother down here."

"Sam.. He wouldn't go with you. He doesn't do one night stands."

"You're brothers smart then. Way smarter than you." She laid a hand on his back, feeling the purpling bruises. Dean would hate to admit how much that hurt.

She walked towards her table, where her torture toys was organized. She picked up a small knife and walked back over to Dean, putting the knife at his collar bone and dragging down. Dean winced, feeling the warm liquid run down his chest.

"That hurt Dean?"

"I'll kill you." Dean threatened.

"I'd love to see you try." She taunted, pulling on the chains.

"You gotta realize Dean. You're not a super human. You think you're so invincible. I'm just.. showing you. You're not."

"By what? Depriving me from water, food. Torturing me? Honey. I know I'm not invincible. When you cut me, I bleed. Don't I? Look. Just let me go creep, and maybe I'll go easy on you."

"You do bleed." She replied softly, digging the knife deeper and slicing downwards. Dean groaned, blood running out from his side. She smiled, licking the knife.

Dean closed his eyes. _"Come on. Cas... Sam. Anyone. Help me. Please."_

He heard footsteps going up the stairs, and when he opened his eyes again, he was alone. He looked up at the chains, trying to haul his hands out again.

"Come on Dean. If no one's going to come and save you. You need to do it yourself."

_"Great. Now I'm going insane. Talking to myself." _

_"You know what Dean? Stop caring. You have a right to go insane don't you?"_

_"No I don't."_

_"Yeah. Yeah you do. Sammy isn't coming. Cas isn't showing up. No one cares about you Dean! No one!"_

_"No... Someone has to care."_

_"No one. Cares. About. You. Get that through your head."_

_"Someone has to care!"_

_"Think about it Dean. Do_ you_ even care about yourself!?"_

Dean stopped struggling against the chains, and stared at his feet. Did he care about himself? Duh. Of course he did. Or did he? Dean squeezed his eyes shut. His head hurt. He wanted out. He wanted food. Something to drink. He didn't want to be here anymore.

"Come on Sammy. Cas... I'm dying here! Help! Cas! Please..."

He waited, but no one showed up.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

"No one's coming. No one's coming Dean" Dean muttered under his breath as he yanked on the chains one last time.

His muscles were strained, hurting even more now that he'd been trying for the longest time to get himself free. His arms felt like if he moved them anymore they would rip right out of their sockets. Hell, that sounded better than staying here. Sweat, blood and dirt coated his body. His body was stiff and sore and aching and all he wanted to do was scream and cry. Because the woman was right, he wasn't some random super human. He was just human. Fragile. Broken. And he deserved to cry. But he wasn't going to cry. Crying showed weakness to Dean. Dean had made that rule up when he was only 8 years old and seen Sam watching him from the corner of his eyes. The kid was playing with blocks, and being quiet. As the old saying goes, dogs and kids always know. Sam knew there was something wrong, he still did even now. But young Dean, taking care of Sam, and not wanting to seem weak to Sam, forced his tears back. Although he really missed his father who was rarely ever there for him, and the baby-sitter smelled funny and always made Sam and him uncomfortable.

Crying was a weakness. Exhaustion crept into Dean, wanting to claim his conciousness, but Dean didn't want to sleep. He wanted to get out. Sleep could wait. He yanked on the chains, clearly overdoing himself as the pain made a yelp escape from Dean's lips. He remained silent for a couple of minutes, until he could hear them. The faint footsteps. The creaky door. She was coming back.

"No." Dean whispered, holding his breath while she marched down the stairs. He squeezed his eyes shut, not wanting to see her anymore. She came to a stop in front of him and smacked him across the face.

"What are you doing _YELPING_ down here Dean?! I thought you were stronger than _that!"_ She sounded almost angry, and it was perfectly reasonable for Dean to stay quiet. But when was Dean ever reasonable with monsters. He looked up, looking her dead in the eye and spoke.

"You shut up bitch. I don't need you to tell me how strong or not I am. I can do that myself."

Her eyes flashed. "Who said you could talk?"

"I did." Dean replied cockily. "And I'm going to keep speaking."

"Not for long!" She shouted, grabbing her hammer and smashing it into his skull.

Things went black after that.

When Dean came back around, everything was hazy. It was still dark, and his head was pounding. Over and over again, constantly, like his heart was beating inside his ear drums. He shifted his head a little to the right and winced. He felt something cold and damp, running over his cuts. His eyes fluttered a bit, and he could see her. The fear inside him grew, making every nerve in his body tense, which only hurt him more. Her voice echoed in his head, as if she had shouted into a hollow cave.

"Relax. You're bleeding more now."

That wasn't reassuring.

"Get.. Get away from me. Sam!" Dean called out, hating how weak and scared he sounded, but not caring anymore.

_"Are you really going to break that easily Dean?" _the little voice said in Dean's head. Dean blinked, trying to make everything get clear. He seen the girl, she was picking up something white. What was it?

"This might hurt a little." She said, unwrapping whatever it was. The soft fabric wrapped around his ribs and back, making him groan and stiffen more. The bruises were tender under the bandages, but she didn't seem to care that she was hurting him, and kept wrapping it around him. The bandages were stained red immeaditly.

"I guess I had too much fun. Did I Dean?" She said. Dean could see her more clearly now and could see the smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

_"Cas.. Please. Even if you can't come. Tell Sam where I am. Please!?"_ Dean prayed, not sure if it could go through this time or not, but knowing he had bigger problems to deal with.

"You know Dean..." She drove a finger under his chin and made him look at her, although Dean would rather look anywhere else. Her eyes fixed into his, and she got uncomfortably close.

"You can learn to like me..."

Dean scoffed. "Like you? Really? There's a better chance of me being facebook buddies with Satan" He spat.

Her eyes narrowed, sending chills down Dean's spine.

"And if you can learn to like me... Maybe you can learn to love me..."

"I'll never like you. Little lone love you sweetheart. Sorry to crush your dreams."

"That's not what you said three nights ago. Is it Dean?"

Dean winced as the tip of the blade was pushed into his chest again, making another scar for Dean. Luckily, it wasn't deep, because the knife was directed straight above his heart.

"You and me.. Dean. We're quite alike." She started, laying the knife down on the table, and staring at him.

"Not really. I don't chain girls to ceilings and torture them." Dean hissed, letting a grin form on his face. The feeling felt odd now, even though it had only been three days.

"If you just got to know me Dean. Maybe you wouldn't hate me so much. Maybe we could get along."

"Hate you? I'm always going to hate you!" Dean shouted.

"Indoor voice Dean." She scolded, holding the knife to his throat for a quick second.

"When I was a kid.. I had three older siblings. Anna, Eric and Trenton." She spoke their names with hate. "And.. my dad. He loved all of them, except me."

"Oh. So what? I'm here 'cause you have _daddy issues?!" _Dean spat.

"Listen!" She stressed. "Everything I did. I was never good enough, not for him by a long shot. I always did something wrong, or my brothers could do something better and my sister was amazing at everything she tried. My dad. He just.. He just never looked at me the same as them. Tell me you can't relate to that."

"I can't." Dean said. But.. Then he started to think. Growing up.. It was always about Sam. Sam this. Sam that. It was never Dean. Always Sam. His dad would push him around, and he'd listen to every word his dad spoke. He'd do everything he asked. He rarely got a _good job son_ or an _I'm proud of you._ It was always protect Sam. Keep Sammy safe. It had been drilled into his head since the dawn of time. And Dean, he could've had such a normal life too.. But Sam.. Sam needed someone to look after him. So he threw away his normal life for Sam. Then Sam ran off, left Dean alone. It's not like his dad stayed with him. John had run off, gone drunk. Insane with avenging Dean's mom's death. And why did the yellow eyed demon come? For Sam. Dean realized.. for the first time in forever, how mad he was. How it always seemed to be about Sam. How it never seemed to be about Dean. And for a minute, Dean felt like he could really hate Sam. He ruined his life.

_"Dean. What are you thinking!? Sam's your brother!"_

_"He's a piece of shit that's what he is!"_

_"No! Dean.. What's happening to you!?"_

_"Think about it. Sam probably found out you were missing and ditched your ass."_

_"Sam wouldn't do that!"_

_"You sure about that!?"_

_"Yeah! Of course I'm sure.."_

Sam wouldn't leave Dean out to die. No way in hell. And Dean could picture 3 year old Sammy asking Dean to read him a story, and looking up at him with those big puppy dog eyes. He was so innocent back then. Dean was his idol. But did it really matter anymore. The longer he stayed here, the quicker it was for Dean to forget about everything, to forget about what Sam was like. To forget about the taste of food, the idea of never being parched. The thought of his beloved Impala. Everything was slipping away, and Dean had no choice but to listen to the woman's story. Which was stirring up so many emotions in Dean, he'd rather be being tortured.

_"Cas. Come on dude... I'm going insane."_

After a couple of minutes of hopefully waiting for Cas to show up, and to save him, the hope flickered and died like a candle flame. And Dean never felt so betrayed in his life.

_"The time when I need you most.. And you don't show up."_

Dean suddenly found it really easy to listen to the little voice in his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! Sorry for the late update. I'd like to say I was doing something productive with my life, and that's why it took so long. But that's not the truth. It was more like writers block, and no motivation, and just plain laziness. Well I hope this chapter satisfies you. I even wrote some Sam into it. Woot! And Bobby! Hope you enjoy.**

Chapter 4:

The lady walked around Dean in circles, like a predator circling it's weak and helpless prey. Dean wanted to yank his tired arms out of the chains, but he had already won a long gash in his side from doing that earlier. He tried following her with his eyes, but it strained his muscles too much, and he gave up.

_"Dean Winchester. Giving up. Pathetic."_ his thoughts roared in his ears, in his mind. 3 days ago, Dean would punch the sucker that dared call him pathetic, prove to them that he could make their life misery in millaseconds. Now? He could believe it. He was pathetic. Only pathetic people live in the shadows of their drunk fathers. Obeyed every word they said. Revolve their life around someone else.

_"Come on Dean. You're stronger than this."_ one voice in his head said, but was drowned out by another one, louder, claiming he could never be strong. He tried to remember back to a time, he had been strong. Emotionally, physically. But.. it seemed so far away, and it was hard to reflect back on such things. It was hard to believe he ever had a life before this.

"Dean." she stopped in front of him, and stared into his glassy eyes. He was getting sick, it was easy to tell. She'd give him medicine, when he really needed it. She also noticed, in the dim light, one of his pupils were dilated. He had a concussion. This was great, she could confuse him more. It always brought joy, to bring home guys who thought they were good at everything, and weaken them and play them like a fiddle. It made her feel like a goddess.

"Dean.." she repeated, more seductive this time, walking closer and wrapping her arms around his neck. Dean winced beneath her.

"Yes bitch?" He asked, the fire still in his eyes. But it was almost gone. She decided that when the flames, finally died out, and he'd plead and beg. She'd end his suffering.

"You love me right?" She asked innocently.

"Love you? No." Dean replied bluntly.

"You don't?" She asked, acting shocked as she grabbed the knife from the table, which now was decorated in splotches of red.

"That's not what you said yesterday.." She smirked, drawing a heart into his skin right above his actual heart. He yelped as the knife ran through an old cut.

"I never said I loved you!" Dean screamed.

"But you did, Dean? Are you feeling ok?" She asked, placing her hand gently on his forehead, while laying the knife back on the table. His skin was hot beneath her hand, and sweaty and clammy. Yes. Dean was really sick.

"I'm feeling fine." He lied.

"My poor baby. You're coming down with something."

"I-I'm not your baby." He stammered.

"Really?" She hissed with a glare. "Let's see what you think when you wake up." She raised the hammer from the table, and hot pain coursed through Dean as it crashed into his skull, once again.

Sam was going insane. It might've been due to the fact, he hadn't gotten any hours of sleep in two days straight, or maybe it was the fact that all he'd been drinking was coffee. Oh, right. It wasn't any of those. It was the fact that DEAN HAD BEEN MISSING FOR 3 DAMN DAYS!

Sam rubbed his tired eyes, willing them not to close with all his might, although every time he blinked, it was hard for him not to keep them closed, and drop wherever he was standing. He scoured the internet, flipped through various books about monsters, upon monsters. Some reaching 5000 pages. There were so many things that snatched up men, to eat them. To _torture_ them. So much information shoved into Sam's brain that it hurt to open a book, or look at the screen. He had the king of all headaches right now, and his heart constricted every moment as he read up a monster, and it didn't fit the bill of what might've taken Dean.

"Demons. It has to be demons." Sam spoke aloud. All men were found tortured. Demons **LOVED** torturing. That had to be it. But.. there were no omens! Nothing denomic. No sulphur. Sam buried his hands in his hair, deciding whether or not he should rip it out of his head. Where could Dean possibly be? He was losing it. He walked into the bathroom and splashed cold water onto his face. It did nothing to calm his nerves, or wake him up anymore like it usually would. Maybe a cold shower would do it?

_"What! Sam. You can't take time to take care of yourself right now! Dean's out there getting tortured! And you think you can just sit back, watch tv. Drink beer. Shower. Eat. Sleep!? NO. Dean wouldn't rest until he found you, and neither are you." _

Sam sank to his knees on the bathroom floor and buried his face in his hands. Dean would be ok. He'd always be ok. For the tenth time that day, he sent a prayer up to Cas. But Cas never responded. Sam hoped, with all his might, that maybe Cas was doing this solo, finding Dean. And would drag his ass back to Sam, so maybe Sam could relax. Sam almost jumped out of his skin, as he heard his phone ringing. He sighed heavily, and grabbed it. He didn't want to talk to anyone. He answered the call with a gruff hello.

"What? Did I wake you or something sleeping beauty?" Bobby spoke in a sarcastic voice.

Sam shook his head, almost forgetting that Bobby couldn't see him. "No.."

"How's the case goin'? I tried calling Dean, but he wasn't picking up."

Oh right. Sam.. forgot to tell Bobby. Figures.

"Bobby..." Sam started, his voice giving everything up.

"What!? What's wrong?!" Bobby bellowed into the reciever.

"Bobby.. Dean's missing." Sam's voice cracked accidentally.

"Dammit! Boy! Why didn't you tell me this earlier?! I'm coming. I'll be there in 4 hours or less."

"Bobby. It's an eight hour drive." Sam explained.

"Then you damn well know I'm driving fast! Now. Don't do anything stupid. I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Bobby.. thanks." Sam replied weakly.

"Don't thank me ya idjit." And Bobby hung up.

Great. Bobby was coming. Maybe Bobby could help. Sam sunk down on the couch, and picked up another book. He had to do something while he waited. So he researched.

**TBC**


End file.
